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Updated: June 22, 2025
That was rather a long speech for Eben Tollman, and as he finished Conscience felt the glances of both men upon her, awaiting her confirmation. She smiled and Stuart detected no flaw in the seeming genuineness of her cordiality. "We know he likes the place," she announced in tones of whimsical bantering, "and if he refuses it must mean that he doesn't think much of the people."
Eben Tollman was neither the ogre he had formerly seemed nor yet the utterly careless husband that his present conduct appeared to indicate. He had simply recognized in the days of Stuart's ascendancy something akin to disdain in the Virginian's attitude toward him.
"No one but Dick, the tollman, could have thrown that against the door!" said a little man who seemed a person of authority. "I wonder where the patroon can be?" With unusual pallor of face the young girl stepped from behind the sheltering post. Her hand, resting doubtfully upon the balustrade, sought in unconscious appeal her companion's arm, as they descended together the broad steps.
Tollman might have been pardoned in making further inquiries, but already his plan of proceeding cautiously had seemed to supply him with such valuable points of evidence that he meant to continue the fruitful policy, so he contented himself with the casual inquiry, "Was this recently?" "No, it was about two years ago." Two years ago and until now she had never mentioned it!
You see I tried my latch key first, and finding the house dark, I sought to avoid disturbing the sleepers. I went to the back door and the side door. Finally I knocked. Since neither of you was asleep it's all right." "Perhaps after being in the fog so long," Conscience suggested, "a little brandy might be advisable," but Eben Tollman laughed.
This, too, was a night of stars, but rather of languorous than disquieting influences, and the talk had flowed along in serenity, until gradually, under the spell of the music the two younger members of the trio fell musingly silent. Tollman had chosen a program out of which breathed a potency of passion and allurement.
After weeks of patient silence, Tollman asked once more, "Conscience, is there still no hope for me?" To his surprise she met his questioning gaze very directly and answered, "That depends on your terms." "I make no terms," he hastened to declare. "I only petition."
But he had the chance to put money in her way and all he asked was that she'd 'be nice to him." "You put things very bluntly I might almost say, vulgarly, Mr. Hagan," objected Eben Tollman with a fastidious shiver and his visitor flashed his answer back in a manner of menacing aggressiveness. "It strikes you that way, does it?
It was the figure of Eben Tollman and his manner was full of solicitude but as he talked with the father, Farquaharson saw him more than once steal covert glances at the daughter. Obviously he bore, here, the relationship of family friend, and though Conscience seemed to regard him as a member of an older generation, he seemed to regard her as a contemporary.
But until she went to the Van Styne, she seems to have been straight." "There is always an 'until' in these cases," observed Mr. Tollman dryly and the head of the "Searchlight" nodded his acquiescence. "Sure there is. She was young and what the rounders call a good-looking chicken.
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